


Close Escape

by GreyHaven



Series: Duke and Nathan as partners in crime [2]
Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, a life of crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 05:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11548935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyHaven/pseuds/GreyHaven
Summary: Loosely connected toCookieDoughMe'sNate Hansen AUNate and Duke's early days as partners in crime.  Things don't go smoothly...





	Close Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CookieDoughMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/gifts).



> [CookieDoughMe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe) is writing an *amazing* series of interconnected fics in the [Nate Hansen AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/740616)
> 
> This is a one shot which links closely with them :)

Much of Duke’s work, if it could legitimately be called that, involved him being away for weeks at a time, aboard the Cape Rouge.  Nate had tried, just once, to ask exactly how he’d acquired a sea-going cargo ship.  Duke had remained tight-lipped and muttered something about a game of cards.  He’d refused to elaborate further.

Nate never went with him on these trips.  Instead, he’d stay in the city and keep things ticking over.  There was plenty to worry about - maintaining supplier and customer relationships for one thing.  Duke was better at that.  Oh, Nate  _ tried _ , but he was better suited to bringing the muscle.  At least no one would try and fuck with him.  Something in his eyes, maybe, that sent out a clear message of ‘Don’t mess with me’.

The latest job, though, was taking them east to Boston, perilously close to their home town of Haven.  Neither of them really wanted to be doing it and Duke was especially aggrieved to have been forced to leave his beloved ship behind.  Even he had to admit it wasn’t practical to sail the Rouge all the way around to the opposite coast.  Not when they only had a few small packages to deliver, anyway.

It hadn’t made much sense to take a vehicle each, but working out which one to take hadn’t been straightforward.  Nate had been insistent on taking the Bronco, Duke thought the Landrover would be better.

“No,” Nate told him.  “It’s piss yellow.  I am not going all the way to Boston in a piss yellow truck.”

“If that’s the colour of your piss, I think we’d better find you a doctor,” Duke tried and failed to look innocent, his dancing eyes gave him away.  

Nate fixed him with a glare.  “It’s  _ conspicuous _ , Duke, it’ll get us noticed and that’s not really what we want, is it?”

“S’pose so,” Duke admitted begrudgingly.  

So the Bronco it was, which meant Nate doing all of the driving because there was no way he was letting Duke anywhere near his pride and joy.  He didn’t try to take over on the Rouge, Duke wasn’t allowed to drive the Bronco.  Simple.

Somewhere along the journey, they’d made the leap from being friends and business partners to becoming lovers.  It hadn’t been planned, it just happened one night in a tangle of limbs, a clashing of lips and a hurried discarding of clothes.

When Duke had woken afterwards, Nate had been gone.  He’d worried for a moment that Nate had thought of it as a mistake but a quick survey of the parking lot had revealed him sleeping in his truck.  He did that.  It was as though he was on guard, always watching over Duke.  He wondered why but hadn’t worked up the enthusiasm to ask much.  He’d mentioned it once but Nate had avoided giving an answer.  Duke thought it probably had something to do with his tours in Iraq, always needing to know what was going on around him.

Duke could empathise with that - he’d got himself into a few scrapes earlier in his life and Juvie hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park.  Still, he liked his creature comforts and there was no way he was giving up even a shitty motel bedroom in favour of sleeping sitting up in his truck.  It was kinda sweet, anyway, having Nate watching over him like that.

***

The deal, when they arrived in Boston, hadn’t quite gone according to plan and Duke was still trying to work out exactly why that was.  There had been a lot of shouting about ripping someone off which hadn’t made any sense and, for once, his easy charm hadn’t managed to talk them out of trouble.  

Nate had tried to fight them off, had put up a valiant effort in fact, but had been severely outnumbered and was lucky to have gotten away with a few scrapes and bruises.  Duke had chosen self preservation and had ‘gone quietly’ as they said in old movies, still trying to talk his way out of it even as they’d been tying him to a chair.

So that was how they ended up here, tied up in an abandoned warehouse, where no one could hear them and no chance of escape.  As the henchmen were leaving, they overheard them talking about ‘sending in Sasquatch’ and ‘he’ll finish them’, neither of which sounded particularly appealing.

Struggling against the rope tying him, Nate searched for a way out.  As far as he knew, they weren’t locked in, the heavies were relying on the ropes to keep them here.  If he could only get one hand free…

Duke was favouring keeping still and conserving his energy in case an opportunity provided itself.  In the meantime, his mind was working overtime as he tried to work out how he might talk their way out of this.  

Before either of them had a chance to put together a plan, the warehouse doors slid open and a huge, hulking, figure strode in.  Shaggy, blonde, hair covered his face but Nate knew he’d recognise that walk anywhere.

“Dwight,” he greeted warily.

“Shoulda known it’d be you two,” Dwight replied.

“Sasquatch!” Duke chirped.  “Appropriate really.  Any chance you can…?”  He nodded his head towards the ropes.

Dwight looked undecided for a moment, weighing up his options.  “Fucks sake.  Make it look good.  More than my life’s worth to let you go.  Boss won’t be happy with me.”  He pulled out a knife and cut them free.

Tucking the folding knife back into his pocket, he squared up to them.  “Get on with it.  They’re expecting to hear you screaming by now.  Go out the back, it’ll take you straight down to the docks.  And don’t mess with these guys again.  I won’t be able to help you twice.”

“Got it,” Nate told him, a split second before he landed a punch squarely on Dwight’s jaw.

He hadn’t expected Dwight to come back swinging, but he had said to make sure it looked good and Nate guessed that bruised knuckles had to be a part of that.  Still reeling from the blow to the head he’d just taken, he gestured to get Duke’s attention.

“Little help here,” he snarked.

“You two finished tickling each other?” Duke laughed even as he threw a punch at Dwight.

Between the two of them, they left Dwight with enough bruises to make sure he had a good cover story.  Pausing only to take Dwight’s gun, they took off through the door at the back and ran, heading straight for the anonymity of the busy docks.  

Rounding the corner, they realised they were well out of sight and risked stopping for a breather.  Nate crouched over, his hands resting on his thighs as he gasped for breath.  Duke paced, clutching a hand to his side, breathing just as hard.

“Close one,” Nate grinned wryly.

“Not that close,” Duke replied.  “Fun, huh?”  His eyes gleamed as he grabbed Nate and swung him around to kiss him hard.

“What was that?”  Nate asked when they’d finished.

“We’re still alive.  Gotta celebrate that,” Duke grinned and kissed him again.

“Good a reason as any,” Nate mumbled into Duke’s mouth before he kissed him back.


End file.
